Living A Nightmare  A Pitch Black Fan Fiction
by OGLobotomy
Summary: Set in the Pitch Black Universe. A dramatic event has caused a boy to end up in a strange place; he doesn't know where he is, or why he's there. All he knows is that his world has come crashing down, and amongst the fallen debris, is his unknown past.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Living Nightmare**

**Author: OGLobotomy**

**Rating: R- MA**

**Summary: Set in the Pitch Black Universe. A dramatic event has caused a boy to end up in a strange place; he doesn't know where he is, or why he's there. All he knows is that his world has come crashing down, and amongst the fallen debris, is he unknown past.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Riddick, Jack, Imam, or any character, location, or idea in the Pitch Black/Chronicles of Riddick universe. All unknown characters are mine, email me if you want to use them or my ideas. **

**Contact: Contact me at for questions, reviews, or anything of that nature.**

**A/N: This is a prequel to my main project, which is still under construction. I would really appreciate it if you could give me feedback, positive or negative, about this FF. **

**PS: First Fan Fiction, so beware, It may not be up to par. **

**Chapter One**

It's cold.

So very cold.

_Where_ am I?

The last thing I remember was being home, in Boston. My twin sister, Annabelle, playing hopscotch in the driveway. Christie, my old sister ogling at older boys who had business even being around here anymore. I felt happy.

Happy.

Must've been a dream. Like all the other ones I've been having for the past month. The light high above is flickering. A shudder goes down my spine. That brings up my question again.

_Where_ am I?

The closed in walls, so dark, so cold, remind me of the holovids I use to watch about 20th century prisons. Except there aren't any cold steel bars. Only a large, metal door.

I try to stand up.

My knees buckle and I plummet to the floor. My legs are asleep.

'Great'

I massage the feeling back into my legs, slowly but surely the blood rushes back into my sprawled out limbs.

'Let's _try_ this again'

This time I manage to stand up, awkwardly, but I'm up. I carefully make my way to the large door, noting the incredible stench in the far corner of this hexagon shaped room. The light is low at this end. I feel for the door, nearly stumbling, due to my lack of depth perception.

Vertigo creeps up on me like a wild lion stalking its prey, and I nearly collapse. After a few painstaking seconds I regain my composure and feel for the door again. The cold metal, damp and smooth, doesn't budge under my pressure.

'Locked, figures'

It appears the locking mechanism is _outside_ the door.

I sigh heavily.

I scurry back to the far end of my "cell" and see a indention in the wall, approximately 6 by 9 feet. It's obviously supposed to be my bed. My eyelids become heavy, sleep becomes inevitable. I slowly make my way down to the "bed" and find out that it's surprisingly warmer than the floor. I slowly start to fade from reality. Thinking only of the "good times" in Boston. Soon the dream comes back to me, and my breathing becomes heavy and slow.

'Goodnight, Reggie'


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Screaming.

Someone's screaming.

I abruptly open my eyes, staring into the darkness of my room, cold sweat trickling down every inch of my body.

My throat is sore.

I realize that_ I was the one screaming. _

'That damned dream is back.'

I refuse to say nightmare, I'm not 8 anymore, I've grown out of those.

A sudden pain rushes upon me, It brings back old memories.

Death

Despair

I scuttle those thoughts to the far edges of my mind. As soon as I roll over and continue my trek into dreamland, I hear a click.

A second click, even louder, arises.

I then realize I'm back in the cell, and there's something outside my door, that wants _in_.

Fear creeps up on me, overtaking my senses, flooding my mind and body.

The door hisses, and I jump. The door flies open and three men, with rifles and flashlights barge in, one of them grabs me. I'd fight back, but I'm stricken with fear, and can barely even think. They drag me out of my cell into a large hallway; large metal doors fly past as they drag me quickly down the hall. Orange walls with black and grey symbols on either side, a _very_ large door awaits us at the end.

We arrive at the door; one of the men extends his hand onto a pad, suspended from the wall. The metal doors jolt open, revealing a large room, same orange walls as the hallway, but immensely larger, with benches lining the walls. The room is full of men, all wearing orange and black jump suits.

They all stop to watch us. Obviously curious about the guards captor, and where he was going. We reach an elevator another pad is suspended from the wall. The same man extends his hand and the doors open. They drag me in, their grip tightening to the point of pain. I look up at the man on my left, as we ascend.

He snarls at me, showing his rotting, yellow teeth.

We reach our destination and the doors open once again. Another hallway, it's different. Same colored walls, but brown doors, with keypads and retina scanners. They take me down the hallway; we pass what seems like 20 doors on both sides.

They stop at a door, it's number 3A27. There's a name tag on it.

Dr. Reinhold, Psychiatrist.

The guard knocks.

No answer.

He knocks a second time, louder.

"Be right there." A brittle voice from beyond the door says.

The door opens slowly, a small, wiry, old man is standing in the door way.

A strong hand pushes me forward.

"Patient 1N2796B I presume."

"Aye" Is all the guard replies with.

They proceed to drag me into the room when suddenly the old man stops them.

"That won't be necessary; I believe I can handle this. You gentlemen can wait out here." The old man says in a cheery voice.

The guard shrugs and pushes me through, closing the door behind me.

"Please take a seat!" The old man points to a chair in front of his desk. He waits until I'm seated before he slowly sits.

"Good Morning uh-" He pulls out a file and examines it.

"Mr. Million."

I quirk an eyebrow at him. He continues.

"Do you know why you're here, Mr. Million?"

"Where exactly is here?"

"You are currently a inmate at Ursa Luna maximum security penitentiary." He responds, in a that same cheery voice.

'God I hate that voice."

"Why exactly am I here?"

"So you don't remember the killings?" This time he quirks an eyebrow at me.

"Interesting." Is his response to my silence.

He looks at the file again, mumbling. "Doesn't say you received any head trauma…hmm repressing your memories, huh? Interesting indeed."

I clear my throat again. "Do you mind telling me what's going on here?"

He just stares at me.

"Let's ask you some questions first Mr. Million. Alright?"

I can only manage a slight nod.

"What is your full name?"

"Reggie J. Million."

"Where were you born?"

"Boston, Massachusetts."

"How old are you?"

"Twelve years old."

The questions continue on at a lightning quick pace, until he asks a question that shocks the hell out of me.

"Do you remember killing those four men?"

"W-What?"

He repeats the question slower, as if I'm stupid or something.

"Do you remember killing those four men?"

His tone insults me.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about."

Images start flashing in my head.

Death

Despair

There I am suddenly, in a dark room, holding a body. It's a female, curvy, yet slender. Deep brown hair, smells oddly familiar. I look at her face, it's beat up.

'Oh my god.'

It's Christie, she's dead.

Her body ravaged, her face beat, her throat slit. Next to her is Annabelle, the same was done to her. I return to reality, clutching my head, eyes shut as tight as they can be.

"Mr. Million please relax." The _kind _doctor places a hand on my shoulder.

I push my chair back and lunge at him.

All I see is red.

All I see are my dead sisters.

"I'LL KILL ALL OF YOU FOR THIS!" I scream at the top of my lungs.

Doctor Reinhold backs up to his desk and pushes a button underneath the desk. The guards rush in. They try to restrain me, I struggle and break free. Something hits the back of my head hard. I'm out cold.

'I hope this dream ends."

'I'm _supposed_ to be too old for nightmares.'


End file.
